


Under the Eaves

by misbegotten



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-11-06
Updated: 2012-11-12
Packaged: 2017-11-18 02:56:30
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,865
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/556104
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/misbegotten/pseuds/misbegotten
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After "Broken," Belle and Rumplestiltskin get to know each other again.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I borrowed the phrase "messy business" from Nym. Thanks, Nym. You're my inspiration.

Gold -- no, Rumplestiltskin now, no need to hide it -- led Belle up the steps to his house. Night had fallen, and no doubt the town was in panic, if not chaos, in the aftermath of the Dark Curse unraveling and the wraith wreaking its havoc. His concern was Belle, though. Belle, who had been dead and now wasn't, who had been locked away from him all these years.

His hand on her elbow, he led her past the entryway into the spacious kitchen. "Can I get you something to eat? Drink? I can make some tea."

She smiled, that tentative smile that broke his heart because it lacked the fire of his Belle, and said softly, "That's my job."

He pressed a kiss to her hair. "Let me take care of you."

Belle looked around the well-appointed kitchen, but her gaze was unfocused. It must be a lot to take in, he thought. Twenty-eight years of imprisonment. His hand tightened on his cane. Regina would pay, no matter what. The wraith had failed, but there were other ways at his disposal.

Belle interrupted his dark thoughts by turning towards him, face tilted upwards. "I would dearly like--" she trailed off, blushing lightly.

"Anything, sweetheart."

"A bath," she finished. "They only ever let me have showers at the hospital."

Tamping down his rage at the thought of her confinement, Rumplestiltskin raised her hand to his lips. "Your wish is my command. This way."

Up the stairs, he led her to the bathroom and plugged the tub, turning on the taps to high. He dumped in the bath salts he used when his knee was particularly bothering him, and squirted in some shampoo as bubbles. Behind him, Belle shrugged out of her coat awkwardly and stood there, shyly.

He took the coat. "I'll leave you," he said gently. "Call if you need anything."

He heard her start to remove her garments and made a hasty exit, but her voice brought him up short. "Rumplestiltskin... leave the door open, okay?"

"Yes, love."

Leaving the door ajar, he went to the bedroom and rummaged in his dresser for an undershirt she could use as a nightgown. He scooped up his bathrobe to complete the makeshift ensemble. The sound of occasional splashing reassured him that Belle had not fallen asleep in the bathtub. He took off his suit jacket and loosened his tie, then took the clothes with him to the bathroom door. "Belle, here's a shirt for you to wear. I'll just put it on the floor."

Belle made a noise of gratitude and splashed some more, and Rumplestiltskin smiled slightly before turning away. Making his way down the stairs, he ended up in the kitchen, and decided tea was called for after all. Busying himself with the tea things, he tried not to picture Belle upstairs in his tub, pale skin peeking out from beneath bubbles. Tried, and failed.

Sooner than he expected, there was noise on the stairs and Belle appeared, wrapped in his grey silk robe. "Tea?" she asked, delighted, and he nodded agreement as he poured. He put in a splash of milk and a lump of sugar and handed her the cup, and she took it delicately. "You remembered," she said.

"I remember everything," he answered. He remembered how he'd cast her out. How he'd grieved when he thought her lost. Now was not the time for remembering, he thought firmly. Now was the time for making new memories.

"Come and sit," he urged her, and guided her into the living room. He took his place at one end of the couch, expecting her to curl up in the chair next to it but she settled down beside him, her shoulder touching his.

"Thank you for the bath," Belle said. She leaned into him, shoulder pressing against his more firmly. "It was wonderful."

"Ah, yes. Anything you need, dearie."

Belle took a sip of her tea and said distinctly, "All I need is you." She chuckled. "And perhaps a change of clothes."

"You'll have clothes by the closetful," he promised.

"You can't just magic things into existence here," Belle pointed out. Then she continued, doubtfully, "Can you?"

"Not yet," he said lightly. "But I'm a very well-off man here. I can afford a few fripperies for your amusement."

"Amusement?" she retorted, mockingly. "Needs must, Rumplestiltskin. And I need clothes, unless you intend to keep me locked up in your house all day and night." The last was said with a touch of fire, his old Belle stirring. For all that she had said she loved him, that she must stay with him, there had been something tentative about her, something fragile in the peace they'd made between them. He felt his heart lighten as she looked at him boldly, daring him.

"Never," he promised her, taking the tea cup from her hand and setting it on the coffee table so he could take her hands between his. "I'll never keep you prisoner again. You're free here, Belle. Free to stay or go as you please." He swallowed, unused to laying bare his emotions. "But I hope that you intend to stay."

"I intend... to get a good night's sleep" she said lightly.

He let her hands fall and leaned away from her. "Of course," he said chivalrously. "I'll show you the bedroom." And spend a sleepless night on the couch, thinking about Belle in his bed, he mused.

Belle looked as if she was about to say something, but then changed her mind and sipped her tea, emptying the cup. She took it to the kitchen and, despite Rumplestiltskin's protests, washed it and placed it to dry in the drainer before turning to look at him expectantly.

"This way," he said, and she followed him back up the stairs and down the hall to the bedroom. "There's extra blankets in the closet, if you need one. I'll be--"

Rumplestiltskin turned, and found that Belle had untied his grey robe. She was wearing the undershirt he'd given her and the scrap of panties she'd arrived with, looking delectable. Every muscle in his body tensed at the sight of her, and he shook his head, trying to gather his thoughts.

Belle put out her hand, suddenly looking uncertain again. "Stay with me?" she asked tentatively. "Stay with me tonight, Rumplestiltskin. I don't want to be without you."

Not "I don't want to be alone," he thought. "I don't want to be _without you_." No one had ever wanted him like his darling Belle.

He swallowed. "I'll stay," he said hoarsely. "Just, let me change, okay?"

Belle nodded, smiling in relief. He scrambled to find some pajamas from the dresser and retired to the bathroom to change. When he returned, Belle was under the covers, in what he knew would henceforth always be her side of the bed in his mind. Turning out the light, he made his way to the bed and crawled in beside her. She sighed, a noise of exhaustion and happiness combined, and edged over to put her head on his shoulder. He tentatively extended his arm, and she burrowed in next to him, letting him wrap his arm around her.

They slept.

* * *


	2. Chapter 2

It was not a restful night for Rumplestiltskin. He jerked awake every time Belle whimpered in her sleep, petting her hair and murmuring nonsense until she settled again. Moreover, he could feel the tinglings of magic creeping back into his core, skittering like excess energy in his limbs. No, it was not a restful night, but he felt more at peace than he had in twenty-eight years. His Belle was back. His magic was back. Eventually, he fell into a fitful sleep at dawn.

And awoke to find Belle watching him, the clear morning light outside illuminating her figure on the bed. She was propped up with her head on her hand, and when his eyes opened she reached out with her other hand and brushed the hair from his face. "Good morning," she said.

"Good morning," he replied, clearing his throat. He was frozen in spot, not wanting to dispel the image of Belle in his bed. He was also self-conscious -- an unaccustomed feeling -- and swallowed hard before asking, "What are you thinking about?"

Belle blinked and then smiled softly. "I was thinking how different you look here."

"Better, I suppose," he said, a bitter tinge in his voice, and Belle reached out her hand again, running her hand through his hair.

"I didn't say that," she chided. She tilted her head, considering him seriously. "I find I quite miss the curls."

"I'm still a monster, dearie. Best not forget it."

"And as I said, I'm not going anywhere. You need to let me in, Rumplestiltskin. Have courage." She leaned forward and pressed her lips to his softly. "Have faith."

It was a brief kiss, a chaste kiss, but he hungered for more. He also didn't want to scare her, his brave Belle who had let her hold her in his arms while she cried out in the night. He was a beast, but he was a man too, and he desired her as a man did.

"Hey," he said, doing his best to change the subject. "Let me make you breakfast."

Belle stretched -- gods, she was such a temptation -- and yawned delicately. "I had a different idea," she said. She sat up and in one smooth move slid the borrowed t-shirt off her body, dropping it over the side of the bed.

"Make love to me, Rumplestiltskin."

He nearly wept in frustration. She was determined to beat down his carefully shored defenses, his barely restrained control. His cock stirred traitorously as he took in her glorious skin, the pale slide of flesh from her collarbone to the swell of her small, pert breasts, and the play of muscles down across her abdomen.

"Belle," he managed, "You don't know what you're asking. You're confused, and frightened."

She tilted her head. "I know exactly what I'm asking. I'm not confused and yes, I'm a little bit frightened, but I've lived with fear for nearly three decades and I'll not let it stop me now. I know what I want, Rumplestiltskin, and I want you."

It was a brave speech, no less than he would expect from Belle. He reached out and brushed a finger down her cheek. "My darling. My love. I would not want to hurt you." She had come him a maiden, and despite her bold words and actions, a maiden she remained. For him to take what was left of her innocence...

"You hurt me by refusing me," she said fiercely, and pressed her lips to his. There was nothing chaste in it, this time. She suckled on his bottom lip, drawing out a groan from him, and put both her hands behind his head, pulling him in. "Kiss me, Rumplestiltskin," she demanded, and there was no way he could refuse her entreaties. He kissed her back, mouth plundering hers, taking and tasting the sweet invitation.

His hands seemed to have moved of their own accord, for she gasped into his mouth and he realized that he had one hand at her back pulling her to him, the other working one nipple beneath his fingers. She arched forward, and he tore his mouth away from hers to kiss the line of her neck, careful not to bruise her delicate skin. She let her head drop back, giving him better access, and he licked her sweet flesh. Between his fingers, her nipple peaked and he lowered his mouth there, taking her in. She gave a little cry and he raised his eyes to hers, but there was nothing but pleasure there, so he nipped at her, eliciting another cry. He smiled -- a far from benign smile -- and suckled. Belle ran her hands through his hair and pressed his head closer, and he took the opportunity to tease her other nipple with his hand, rolling it between his fingers.

"You have the advantage of me," she murmured in his ear, and plucked at his pajamas.

"I suppose I do, dearie," he managed. He put just enough distance between them and, with unsteady hands, unbuttoned his pajama top. Belle ran her hands across his chest as he shrugged out of the garment, and then lay a hand at the lip of his pajama bottoms. "Are you sure, my love?"

In answer, she peeled the bottoms down, finding him bare underneath. Her breath caught at the sight of his erection, but she carefully eased the fabric around him, then down, past his bad knee, and off his legs altogether. Crouching forward, she kicked off her panties and presented herself shyly, settling back onto the mattress. "I'm ready," she said, a little unsteadily, and he cocked his head.

"Not yet, sweetheart," he said. He leaned above her and kissed her, letting his hands trail down her small frame, getting used to the feel of her dips and hollows and allowing her to become accustomed to his touch. She was ticklish at her sides, and giggling seemed to break the tension that had its grip on her body. She melted beneath him, her hands going to his shoulders to skate down his back and up again. He continued his travels along her skin, until his thumbs brushed the triangle of hair at her center and she flinched. "Okay, love?"

Belle bit her lip but nodded, and he let his fingers slide past the outer folds to touch her core. By the gods, she was wet for him and his cock twitched impatiently, but he had more patience than some callow schoolboy, and he was determined to do this right. Carefully, gently, he rubbed her, watching closely where she tensed, where she relaxed, until he found the nub at her center that caused her hands to flex and scramble in the sheets. "Ah love," he said. "Let it go," and then he was using the flat of his tongue to taste her. He teased her with his tongue, plunging into her as he continued his ministrations with his finger, and she cried out above him, over and over. At last he put a finger inside her, then two, and continued to lap at her until she was tumbling over the edge of ecstasy, nearly dragging him along as she clenched around his fingers.

"Rumplestiltskin," she murmured, and he thought his name had never sounded so tender, so sweet. And then she undid his semblance of control. "I love you. Make me yours."

She spread her legs wider and nearly pulled him up by the roots of his hair so she could kiss him, and he groaned as his cock met her thighs. He had the forethought to murmur a spell to protect her against pregnancy, and then with pained patience he entered her slowly, watching her face carefully to make sure he was not hurting her. She breathed in sharply but did not betray anything other than wonder until he was fully sheathed inside her, and she buried her head in his shoulder. He moved cautiously, but she hooked her heels behind his thighs and pulled him forward, and he needed no further urging to take her. "Belle," he moaned as she rose to meet his thrusts, and he forced himself into a staccato rhythm lest he come too quickly. She pressed her lips against his neck and shoulder, and then stroked his back with the edge of her fingernails, hard enough to leave a mark. The thought inflamed him, and he balanced himself on one arm so he could find her center again with his other hand, rubbing until she sobbed beneath him and came around him, and then he was done for. He emptied himself into her, jerking savagely as he came and shuddering over her when he was done.

They lay there, panting, until Belle made a noise of distress as his cock slid from her. "Am I bleeding?" she asked, and he brushed the hair from her forehead to press a kiss there.

"No, it's just a messy business, this making love. Wait here."

He rolled out of the bed with a sigh and hobbled to the bathroom, where he took a washcloth and dampened it. Returning to the bed, he cleaned up Belle -- noting that she _had_ bled, a little, and he marveled at the gift she had bestowed upon him -- and ran the cloth over himself before climbing back onto the bed and pulling up the covers. He extended his arm and Belle burrowed against him, this time twining her legs between his and laying her hand on his bare chest.

"Okay, love?" he ventured.

"More than okay," she said, her words languorous. "Thank you, Rumplestiltskin. Thank you for letting me in."

He kissed her hair. "I said I'd make you breakfast."

She smiled. "So you did." She kissed his chest. "And then perhaps we can try this messy business again?"

He had his Belle back, and his magic. And Belle had asked for him. Gods help him if she asked for his secrets.

Gods help them both.


End file.
